


In Which Crocker has a very busy day (Or, the secret isn’t really a secret and Jane is a good little hunter)

by GemmaRose



Series: Demonstuck [4]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Demonstuck, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-07
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 13:28:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1430221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemmaRose/pseuds/GemmaRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jane goes hunting, then has to deal with her younger cousin the morning after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Crocker has a very busy day (Or, the secret isn’t really a secret and Jane is a good little hunter)

Your name is Jane Crocker, and your cousin is late. Again. His girlfriend isn't present either, and considering how she abhors tardiness you can only think of one conclusion. They were having sex, and couldn't read the clock without their glasses on.

A familiar engine growls outside, and Aranea comes in with her usually impeccably straight blue hair an utter mess. You sigh, standing up as your cousin saunters in behind her. "If you keep doing this I'm going to set a goddamn alarm on that stupid shitty phone of yours, Jake."

He rolls his eyes, straightening his shirt. From the glimpse you get, you're reasonably sure his underwear is on inside out and backwards. You're not sure whether to laugh, cry, or hit him. You settle for an exasperated sigh and smack him upside the head. "Come on, word came down from Ms. Umbrum that we’ve got the East Sector tonight."

Aranea groans and lets her head hang back. “But that place is gonna be swarming! I have papers that need writing.”

“We could’ve been done early if you two had been on time.” you retort, sliding a knife into the sheath hidden in your skirt’s waistband. “Now get your shit strapped on and let’s roll, it’s time to go kill some shit.”

\-----

Ten minutes later Jake’s car is parked between two dumpsters, and you’re fingering the grip of your favourite weapon. Jake and Aranea may tease you for fighting with modified carving utensils, but the triple silver prongs have saved your asses on numerous occasions.

Aranea signals that there are two feeding just up ahead, and you shift your grip on the customized handle. Another few hand-motions tell you that it’s a Phuka and a Thrall-maker, two you’ve fought before but never managed to defeat. You move on, navigating around the demons without engaging. If you fight them now, you’ll either be engaged or out of commission for the rest or the night.

Jake whispers a prayer for the man who is now either dead or worse, fingers twiddling the silver-plated cross on the end of your grandmother’s rosary. You wonder for the thousandth time if you should tell him Gran hated the old thing, and for the thousandth time decide that now isn’t the moment.

Two lesser Possessors try to fight you in the bodies of their freshly slain victims, and in short order discover why leaving your true body vulnerable when the hunters outnumber you is a _very_ bad idea. Aranea jabs her spear through their physical hearts while you and Jake keep the idiots busy, and once that’s done you and Aranea pin them down so Jake can exorcise their spirits. You give them a burial in the dumpster, and throw the smouldering demon husks on top. 

The whole night goes like this, your team darting through alleys and side streets, leaving a trail of burnt corpses and occasionally human bodies with unexplainable puncture wounds. Jake says a prayer for every human victim, and though you have him pull an exorcism when possible, by the time the bars close you’re all three covered in stinking blood. In the early months, back when you were still in high school, it felt like a miracle each time you managed to get back to Jake’s car without being spotted. Now you know the routes of the police patrols as well as the best routes between classes, and jog easily to the batted, filthy old four-door. Aranea is the least bloody amongst you, so she takes Jake’s keys and slides into the driver’s seat while you pile into the back with your cousin.

“So, Ranea.” you yawn. “What papers do you need to write?”

Jake is already snoring quietly, head leaning against the window, and you let your head loll back against the ancient headrest as your eyes slide shut. Sure enough, Aranea begins to drone out an answer.

“Well, for Anthropology I have…” 

The next thing you register is a hand shaking your shoulder, and it’s more reflex than reaction when you swing a backhanded fist at your attacker. Your knuckles meet nothing but air, and the shaking continues, now accompanied by noise.

“Jane, wake _up_ you big, stupid, lazy cow!”

Oh, yeah. Jade can’t drive for shit, so she has to wake you when she has a place to be. You grab your pillow and roll over, only to fall off the couch. Ow, right, shit. Your bed was too much effort to reach last night, so you just crashed in the living room. Jade laughs, and you swing the pillow at her legs. She falls flat on her butt and glares at you.

“Ass.” she pouts, crossing her arms.

“It’s Saturday.” you scowl right back, pushing yourself into a technically upright position. “And you don’t have anywhere to be. How the hell are you even up this early?”

Jade had been getting up, but at your words she sits back down heavily, drawing her knees to her chest. “About that…”

You cousin is never hesitant to speak her mind, ever. It’s one of the things you love and hate the most about living with her. “Jade, what’s wrong?” you ask, fixing your posture. “Did something happen during last night’s hunt?”

She shakes her head, then presses her forehead to her knees. “Remember how John missed school yesterday?” she says quietly, almost inaudible even in the silence of your house. 

“Yeah. Was he too wired to hunt? You know Ms. Umbrum won’t like if you ditched patrol to interrogate redeyes again.”

“Strider escaped.” she mumbles into her nightgown’s skirt. “He got John, and then he ran.”

You’re definitely awake now, plans already flickering through your head. How long it would take to wake your team, how quickly you can assemble, where you can find a demon to get info from. “John’s at the Hive?”

She shrugs. “I went to check on him after school, and he was in the basement. He said-” she hiccups, and lifts her glasses to brush away tears. “that I should kill him, before he could hurt me.”

Your eyes must be as large as dinner plates. In a heartbeat your half-formed plans shatter, the core idea of Rescue Mission now gone. “You saw that John was a demon, and you were _inside_ the room where he keeps the demon weapons, and you didn’t _kill him_?!” you shoot to your feet, grabbing Jade’s collar with both hands and lifting her onto her toes. “You could have died!” you shout, shaking her. “Grandad’s rules, you dumbass! Shoot on sight, shoot to kill!”

You throw her onto the couch, breathing heavily. Jade is up on her feet and in your face seconds later. “He’s not like them!” she screams, almost making you wince from the sheer volume. “He’s **John**. He couldn’t hurt me if he tried, because he’s **not evil**!”

“He isn’t your brother anymore, you dumbass!” you can’t help but raise your voice even more, and you wind up with your hands clamped on her shoulders without a full memory of how they got there. “He is a **demon**! He’d sooner drink your life than save it!”

“And I’m not dead!” she screams, wrenching your hands off and getting in your face. For a few moments you can only hear the both of your heavy breaths and the buzz of the lightbulb in the lamp. Then Jade seems to deflate, stepping back and brushing her long, messy hair out of her face. “I’m not dead, Jane. I had John in my arms, and all he did was cry. He doesn’t **want** to drink life like a demon.”

You sigh and straighten your glasses. “Where is he?”

Jade bites her lip, confidence evaporating in a flash. “Uh, that’s the thing. Strider bit him all over the place, so he was in the shower cleaning up, and when he wasn’t out after half an hour I checked, and…”

“He wasn’t there?” you finish her sentence incredulously.

She nods.

You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh heavily. So much for simplicity. “Have you told anybody else?”

“Yes. I called Ms. Umbrum, and she told me to take the night off.” clipped sentences, feet tight together, hands clenched into trembling fists at her sides. Grandpa’s military training stuck with her far more than it did with you, and for that you’re grateful. Jade’s strong, she’ll be able to move on when the inevitable happens.

You rub your eyes, smudging away the crusty lumps at the corners. The most efficient way to handle this would definitely be hunting down John with your team and offing him, or giving him a weapon to do it himself. Unfortunately Jade holds grudges better than the beasts you hunt, so that’s out. Maybe you can hide his body and pass it off on the younger Serket? No, Vriska’s just reckless enough to think dating a demon is a good idea. The Maryam team, maybe? No, they fight with Miss Umbrum’s light magic. You can’t replicate that. If worst comes to worst you could always dump him on the Makaras’ doorstep. Nobody even likes those psychos anyways.

“Well, I’d ask you to let me sleep some more, but I’m too awake for that now.” you joke, giving her a boop on the nose. “Lemme shower, and we’ll figure out what to do, okay?”

She smiles, and once you’re in the bathroom you press your fingers to your forehead. Life is definitely going to get complicated now.

**Author's Note:**

> Jake/Aranea, yay! I know Chofi's "official" comics are all DirkJake, but hey, this is my fic! My thanks to everyone who has left kudos and reviews on this series, and my apologies for being so slow at updating.


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